


take a deep breath, baby (let me in)

by nishtabel



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Facials, Foot Jobs, M/M, Shibari, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishtabel/pseuds/nishtabel
Summary: “It’s alright if it hurts a little,” Dedue had said, solemn and so, so serious. “I don’t mind.”“Imind,” Ashe had snapped, a little too forcefully. “If I’m going to tie you up, I’m going to do it right.”Sometimes, Dedue needs help relaxing.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	take a deep breath, baby (let me in)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Capnmidori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capnmidori/gifts).



> another fic for my little LCBF fundraiser! this one is for [midori](https://twitter.com/midoriwillfight), who was kind enough to match my donation. if you would like your own fic, you can find my tweet [here](https://twitter.com/nishtabel/status/1266798230706192388).

The rope is soft in Ashe’s hands, smooth as silk and glistening white against Dedue’s dark skin. They’ve been taking this slowly: “Massage first,” Ashe said, “to get you loosened up.” When Dedue had begun to shake his head, Ashe smiled. “You’d do the same for me, love.” And so Dedue had acquiesced.

Dedue doesn’t relax easily. There’s always something to be done, something to plan, something to consider. Ashe can hear him thinking, even now—even with his arms stretched taut behind his back, wrists bound tight just against the swell of his ass. Ashe had _practiced_ for this, weeks and weeks of tying knots and experimenting with different rope, his own ankles and wrists worn raw from amateur mistakes. He won’t let Dedue down, not with this. Though it had been Dedue’s idea, Ashe refuses to be anything less than perfect for his husband.

(“It’s alright if it hurts a little,” Dedue had said, solemn and so, so serious. “I don’t mind.”

“ _I_ mind,” Ashe had snapped, a little too forcefully. “If I’m going to tie you up, I’m going to do it right.”)

Dedue shifts on his knees, head bowed low enough for Ashe to see the strain of his shoulders. Ashe presses between them with a kind hand, one thumb massaging at the straining muscle. “Relax,” he murmurs, a gentle reminder. “I’m almost done. Just relax for me, okay?”

Dedue nods and shudders, full-body. With a soft smile, Ashe drags his palm from between Dedue’s shoulder blades and up to Dedue’s neck, offering a single squeeze before threading his fingers through Dedue’s long, silver hair. He’d chosen this rope for a reason: it’s a perfect complement to Dedue’s hair, soft and shimmering over one shoulder.

Slowly, steadily, Ashe continues to work. Dedue is patient, still, breath leveling with each additional knot Ashe ties. He’d chosen this position because it had seemed easy, at the time: Dedue on his knees, legs spread, ankles knotted together and tied to the binding of his wrists behind his back. It keeps his shoulders straight, his back arched, and even with Dedue’s deep breathing, Ashe can see the flush of his cock between his legs.

“Almost there,” Ashe murmurs, stepping behind Dedue to fasten the final bit of rope just above his forearms. They flex briefly beneath his hands, no doubt testing the strength of the binding—but the knots don’t give, and Ashe hears Dedue let out a single, shaky sigh. “I’ve got you, love, stay with me just a little bit longer,” Ashe says, and ties off the end.

For a long moment, he lets Dedue breathe. He sits motionless, quiet, breathing deep and long and low. Ashe feels his own heart flutter in his chest, thrilling at the sight of Dedue so subdued.

Ashe seats himself on the edge of the bed, directly in front of Dedue. He wants Dedue to know he’s here, present, tangible. With a steady hand, he reaches to touch the side of Dedue’s face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. Ashe searches his face, lingering on the high flush of his cheeks, the smoothness of his brow, the heavy-lidded blink of his eyes. “How are we feeling?” Ashe asks, a whisper.

Dedue blinks again, nuzzles into Ashe’s palm. There’s a warm press of lips against Ashe’s skin, and Ashe’s whole body sings with it. “Good,” Dedue says, breath hot where it winds around Ashe’s fingers. Then: “Green.”

The smile that spreads across Ashe’s face is slow and sweet, lips catching against his teeth. “Good boy,” Ashe breathes, because he means it, because Dedue deserves to hear it. “You’re doing so well for me, love. Do you think you can handle a little bit more?” He nudges the toe of his right foot against the hot brand of Dedue’s cock, a question.

Dedue’s next breath is shaky, lips parting against Ashe’s thumb where it rests on his chin. “Yes,” he says, before: “please.”

“Good,” Ashe says, and hooks his thumb against the lower jut of Dedue’s teeth. He shivers when he feels Dedue’s tongue trace tentatively against his nail. “So good for me.”

(They’d talked about this, too—how Ashe would treat Dedue once he’d been tied up, once he’d been incapacitated. Dedue had tentatively said, “You can...make me pleasure you. If you’d like.” And of course Ashe had smiled at that, so sweet and loving, but:

“I’d rather you pleasure yourself.”)

“I think you can get off like this,” Ashe murmurs, all sugar and honey. “My fingers in your mouth, the heel of my foot against your cock…”

Dedue groans, low and broken. He can’t move much, but Ashe has been teasing him for _hours_ , and the pressure against his cock must feel good, because he’s working hard to rut against it. His hips roll awkwardly, arrhythmically, but his lips close hot around Ashe’s thumb, sucking harder as he meets Ashe’s gaze.

“Good,” Ashe says again, determined to lavish him with praise. “Can you come for me like this? Hm? Just like this, love, I know you can—”

Dedue’s hips stutter as his mouth falls open, tongue wrapping spit-slick around the curl of Ashe’s thumb. His eyes seek Ashe’s, fervent behind the haze of lust and subjugation, and when Ashe says, “Come for me, love,” he does.

The cock beneath Ashe’s foot jerks once, twice, before coming hot and thick against his sole. Dedue chokes through his orgasm, through the aftershocks, and once it’s over, Ashe pulls him heavily against his spread thighs.

“Come,” Dedue says, voice hoarse. “Please, Ashe—”

“Of course,” Ashe replies, and fists his own cock. It’s heavy, swollen, painfully hard after being neglected for several long hours. He pumps himself languidly while he keeps his eyes on Dedue’s face, seeking the same pleasure, the same bliss that settles in Dedue’s expression.

He comes easily, orgasm building steadily through his body until it crests with an overwhelming warmth. He comes messily, stickily, and when he opens his eyes again, he sees Dedue smiling at him through the mess of cum on his face.

Ashe moves to apologize on instinct, heart beating rapidly in his chest, but: “It’s okay, Ashe,” says Dedue, and licks at the mess around his lips.

“Oh,” Ashe says. “Al—alright.” He swallows, bones melting to molasses. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m perfect,” Dedue says. “This was—perfect.”

Ashe smiles. “I’m glad I could do this for you,” he says, and kisses Dedue’s forehead. It’s sweaty, warm beneath his lips, but the silk of his hair is soft beneath his hands. “I love you.”

A low, contented hum. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments are always appreciated. 💕
> 
> if you'd like, you can find me on twitter at [@nishtabel](https://twitter.com/nishtabel).


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